some words of a story i made in my mind

Corrected criminal, no such thing.

She had escaped away from her criminal mind long long ago.

She had kept herself to herself.

Not letting herself go.

So. It is clear, she wasn´t really free.

Chains are chains...Even if made out of air.

Criminal minds.

No.

They can´t be corrected.

There is no protocol.

No way to take control.

She wondered...is a criminal mind a liberal mind?

How far does freedom go?

How far may one go?

Does good and bad exist?

As she was trapped in a dilemma which is for fact a labyrinth without exit.

Her head spanned in a million and one circles.

She had committed a crime. A time ago. A long long time ago. A crime to no one but herself. A crime of moral dilemma ongoing in her petit but vast brain. 

A jail. In which she had been restrained and liberated. A jail which she thought didn't really exist. A jail she herself had unconsciously fabricated. A jail she had locked herself in.

Now as she saw the light of day. A new born day. A new bright future. A brave new pathway. She was shaking. She was afraid. Afraid of losing restrains. Yet anxious about devouring the opportunities. As she steped out of her shell.

Got ready to ring the bell.

She had an epitome.

All she was afraid seemed as tuna to a cat.

Inoffensive and delicious.

For a fact, criminal minds can´t be corrected.

It is because (in some cases) the crime may not even exist in the first place.

It had been an external and vane idea that she had taken as her own.

Expanded it and had let it take the direction.

She had fabricated a crime. Made herself into a disguised criminal that was uncorrectable. 

Uncorrectable as she had never committed the crime that made her criminal.
How may one repair something that was never broken?